


Still life

by Nary



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Forgiveness, Painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 17:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17047226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: As if it wasn't already strange enough having everyone in Arcadia Oaks know about trolls, everyone also seemed to know Barbara Lake was dating one.Shewasn't entirely sure she was dating one, but everyone else seemed to think she was.  They gave her knowing looks in the grocery store, and a few of her patients asked to be treated by someone else when they recognized her, which was uncomfortable, although others gave her hugs and sympathetic looks, which were uncomfortable but in a different way.It was all very strange, finding their way within the new parameters of their world.  Walter didn't have a human form any longer, and that made their lives complicated - moreso.  Jim and Claire were off in New Jersey, and they had a few hundred babies to deal with, and that wasn't even including figuring out the dynamics of their new relationship.  Dating was hard enough even when you didn't have to factor in previous instances of betrayal, manipulation, attempts to kill your son, and interspecies sex.





	Still life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stuff_and_nonsense](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuff_and_nonsense/gifts).



As if it wasn't already strange enough having everyone in Arcadia Oaks know about trolls, everyone also seemed to know Barbara Lake was dating one. _She_ wasn't entirely sure she was dating one, but everyone else seemed to think she was. They gave her knowing looks in the grocery store, and a few of her patients asked to be treated by someone else when they recognized her, which was uncomfortable, although others gave her hugs and sympathetic looks, which were uncomfortable but in a different way. 

It was all very strange, finding their way within the new parameters of their world. Walter didn't have a human form any longer, and that made their lives complicated - moreso. Jim and Claire were off in New Jersey, and they had a few hundred babies to deal with, and that wasn't even including figuring out the dynamics of their new relationship. Dating was hard enough even when you didn't have to factor in previous instances of betrayal, manipulation, attempts to kill your son, and interspecies sex.

(Toby's grandmother had asked her about that once over tea and cookies - about how it worked. Barbara had stammered something about having to be flexible and creative and then had quickly changed the subject.)

Jim's absence was hard to bear, even though he kept his promise to call every day, and Barbara appreciated the distractions that were available to her. Work was a good one, as was the responsibility of finding homes for all the changeling children. Fortunately, according to Walt, the cradle stone would keep them safe and comfortable until they could either be returned to their families, if those could even be located at this point, or adopted into new families. Barbara spent a lot of hours on the internet trying to track down their relatives, and every week or two, she brought another one to the hospital to turn them over to the social workers, who had more or less figured out what she was up to but were too professional to say anything about it. It was a slow, difficult process, but she felt it was worth taking time to get right - they were innocent children, after all, and they deserved a chance at a good life, if she could give that to them.

She kept up her painting as well, although she was more inspired to paint landscapes, still lifes, abstract paintings, anything but trolls. She'd had enough for now of painting trolls.

But certainly the biggest distraction by far was Walt. He couldn't go outside in the day any longer, with his connection to his human side broken, and he got bored and frustrated. He claimed it was due to having two beings' worth of emotions in one body, but Barbara was pretty sure he was just sulking. Finally one evening she told him to stop moping and find a new job - one that he could do at night. 

"Barbara," he said, "have you looked at me recently? No one is going to hire me."

She shrugged. "You'd be surprised - some people here are open minded about trolls, even considering all the town has been through. And besides, I have faith in you," she added more gently, patting him on the cheek. 

As it turned out, the local community college was looking for someone to teach a few sections of evening history courses, and they didn't seem overly bothered by the fact that he was green and had horns and fangs once they looked at his CV. After that, Walt was vastly more enjoyable to live with, and they settled into a more comfortable routine. Barbara switched to taking more night shifts at the hospital, so they could be on a similar schedule. And it turned out that even though Walt didn't eat human food anymore, he was pretty good at cooking it. He'd have a nice meal waiting for her when she got home, and she'd pretend not to notice him eating whatever awful things trolls ate. It turned out that, as a troll, he actually enjoyed eating a mix of burnt and unpopped popcorn, which meant she could return the favor by making a snack for him on movie nights.

And the sex _was_ amazing. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Toby's grandmother that it involved flexibility and creativity. The first time they'd kissed, she'd had some concerns about those fangs, but they worked around it, even though he was self-conscious about his appearance. He was strong, able to lift her easily in his arms, and considerate, always taking care to check in and make sure he wasn't hurting her. He was conscientious, attentive, and dedicated to pleasing her, which was more than she could say for most men she'd dated. The best she could explain it was that Walt made love to her like he knew he didn't deserve her. 

She often doubted whether that was really a good basis for a long-term relationship - one person feeling like they'd done something unforgivable to the other, and forever trying to make up for it. Of course, she hadn't actually entirely forgiven him yet, either, so maybe that was at least partly her own fault. There was plenty of guilt to go around.

"Let me paint you again," she said early one morning as they lay together in her bed. The sun wasn't quite up yet, and anyway, she had invested in some good-quality blinds. She wasn't sure what prompted the thought at that moment - something about the way the shadows lay across his body, maybe, or the angle of his arm stretched out beside his horns, his face turned towards hers.

"Why?" he asked. The word came out defensive, like he was being challenged, and he seemed to realize it, because he softened his next response. "Of course you can if you want, although I don't know why you would. It hasn't escaped my notice that you haven't been painting any portraits lately." 

"Because I'd like to do it." Barbara hesitated for a moment, before deciding she should be honest with him. "It might help me work through some feelings I've been having."

"All right," he said, still not sounding completely sure, but willing to do what she wanted. "Do you want to go down to the basement now?"

"No," she said. "I'll bring my things up here."

It took her a little while to transport her easel, paints and brushes, along with a canvas, up to the bedroom. It wasn't a massive canvas like she'd used for her previous portrait of him, the one where his snarling face took up the whole frame - partly because she couldn't easily carry such a huge canvas upstairs, but also because she had something more intimate in mind for this version.

Walt looked uneasy, but waited patiently until she had all her supplies in place and was ready to start. "How do you want me?" he asked.

"Lie back on the bed," Barbara said, "just however you're most comfortable." Despite her instructions, she couldn't resist stepping in to adjust the angle of his head slightly.

Once she was satisfied with his pose, she stepped back and let her vision take shape. When she painted, Barbara could easily become absorbed in her work, and that's how it was this time. She painted quickly and intensely, ignoring everything else except the mingling of colors on her canvas, the right brush strokes to capture the effect she wanted. A narrow ray of light, sneaking in along the edge of her blinds, angled along the bed, the only bright spot slicing through the diffuse glow that was now permeating the room. She incorporated it into her painting.

When she finally lowered her arm, it ached from the strain - she hadn't noticed until just that moment. She wiped a hand across her forehead, unaware that she was only managing to spread a smear of green paint there. It was finished. She felt drained - not just tired, but like a wound that's been infected and was now beginning to heal properly.

"May I see it?" Walt asked. To be entirely honest, she had almost forgotten he was really there, not just present as a creation on her canvas, but she nodded, so he rose, stretching, and then came over to look.

The painting was roughly done, not a delicate or polished piece, but full of energy that belied what could have been a peaceful subject. She had painted Walt in his troll form, reclining on the bed where they had had sex the night before. Next to him, overlapping but not completely, she'd painted his human form from memory. The beam of light sliced across them both, cutting across their throats like a knife. 

"It's fascinating," he said. "Quite a departure from your previous works." He peered more closely at the dual figures. "Is this... what I look like to you?"

"No," Barbara said, "not exactly. But my memories of what used to be are wrapped up with what's there now. Good memories, and terrible ones," she admitted. "I thought this might help disentangle them a little. So we could... I don't know. Move forward with our lives?"

Walt reached out to wipe a daub of paint off her cheek, monstrous fingers gentle against her skin. "Do you mean together, or...?"

"Yes," she said, and stretched up to kiss him. "Together." The sun rose higher, past the rooftops, while they went back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


End file.
